


Cross the Galaxy

by TheraViShade



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s01e18 Solitudes, Episode: s02e02 In the Line of Duty, Episode: s02e10 Bane, Episode: s03e10 Forever in a Day, Episode: s04e18 The Light, Episode: s04e20 Entity, Episode: s05e11 Desperate Measures, Even More Season 7 Sprinkles, F/M, I'll fix it later, I'm a tag rebel, Lots of Season 6 Sprinkles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheraViShade/pseuds/TheraViShade
Summary: Jack wakes up in the infirmary and learns about a little hobby that Carter has.





	1. The Complement to Fox Mulder

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! Notes will be at the end from here on out, but I wanted to share my first one here. This is the first fic I ever wrote, and now it is the first fic I've ever posted! I introduced a friend to Stargate and she encouraged me to do some fic exchange with her. I used to never share with anyone because I was extremely insecure, felt my writing was mediocre at best, and I had some unhealthy obsessive compulsive tendencies. But in recent years I've learned to cope better and enjoy writing for writing's sake. I'm sharing this mostly to be brave and let go, but I really hope I provide something that someone out there enjoys, as I've enjoyed so much wonderful writing in this fandom. Thanks for reading!

The first time he noticed her working on one was when they first got back from Antarctica. Well, he wasn’t exactly sure what anyone was doing when they _first_ got back because he hadn’t been conscious. More like he noticed it when he woke up, because she was sitting beside his bed in some hospital pajamas, curled in a chair and studying a book with that intense Carter gaze. The book was thinner than her usual ones, looked more like a magazine, really. When his eyes finally gained the ability to focus on the title, he spoke before he meant to.

“Crosswords, Carter, really? Is that even fair?” he croaked.

She didn’t startle at his intrusion – he liked her sense of calm - she just slowly peeled her eyes away from the page and grinned at him. He regretted speaking before he had the chance to study her unnoticed, her look of concentration one of his favorite Carter looks. But he instantly forgot his remorse when he saw that smile, the one that lit up her eyes and went all the way to her hairline. That look definitely ranked higher on his list.

“Fair to whom, sir?” she asked as she set the book down on the table and reached for the water pitcher. She poured some into a cup and handed it to him. He took it from her, the undersides of his long fingers grazing along the tops of hers. Their gazes locked, and his mouth missed the white bendy straw on the first try. She snickered. He decided to answer her question as a distraction.

“I dunno. Fair to the puzzle, I guess.” He shrugged. Then groaned a little at the movement. He smiled a pouty smile at her before sipping his water.

She laughed then but caught herself and looked around the dimly lit infirmary. They were the only patients at the moment, but she suspected Janet might be hovering somewhere and would get onto her for being out of bed. But she couldn’t sleep. Her bed was far enough away that she couldn’t hear him breathing. And she needed to.

“They can be a little challenging sometimes, sir,” she said as she picked up the book again.

“Oh, really?” he drawled, unbelieving.

“Yes, sir,” she said, chin stuck out like a little girl insisting her story was true. It seemed their petulance was well matched. She tapped the front of the book. “Because it’s not all about science. A lot of it is pop culture and, well … I don’t get out much,” she admitted, as though it were a secret. 

He reigned in his smart aleck response. “Then why do it?” he asked instead.

“It makes me think,” she said, before adding, “Just not too much.” She looked back at the puzzle to avoid his gaze.

“Ah.” He tried to play it casual, but he knew what she meant. Too well. 

They all had their coping mechanisms. Daniel’s books and artifacts probably helped him take his mind off Sha’re, though he suspected it had been his method of escape even before his adventures through the Stargate had begun. He didn’t know a lot about his friend’s past, but in an unguarded moment on the first Abydos mission he had mumbled something about being the only one left in his family. 

New earth culture probably distracted Teal’c a bit from the people he had left behind. He wondered how an honorable man like his new friend had coped with being Apophis’s first prime before his change of planet. He also wondered how many friends or family he had left behind.

Jack didn’t say much, but he knew that the pain of his own past was obvious in the set of his jaw and the way he reacted whenever a child was around. And anyone who had access to his medical file knew what the redacted mission reports couldn’t tell them. Janet could read his X-rays and his team could hear what he didn’t say.

Carter had been so fresh-faced and eager when she arrived at the SGC, Jack couldn’t have imagined her needing to cope with anything too serious. He quickly learned that she just hid it better than the rest of them. Sure, she might shed a few tears here and there, but no sooner had they dried than she was buttoned up and smiling again. It just didn’t reach her eyes. And that was his only real clue. Because her work performance did not suffer and often even improved when she had something to fight against.

He tried to shift in his bed and after a few grunts of pain he motioned to her.

“C’mere.”

“Sir?” She wasn’t sure what he wanted. Wondered if maybe he was still a little out of it and needed a reminder of who she was. She had pretended to be Sara when she thought they were going to die, didn’t think she would live to regret that decision.

“I wanna see the puzzle, but I can’t move."

“Oh!” She stood up and turned away to hide her blush of misunderstanding before scooting her chair closer to the bed. She leaned into the edge of the raised mattress and brought the book back up to eye level with her left arm while supporting herself with her right. He nodded his approval and began to scan the page. She almost laughed at his studiousness but didn’t want him to become self-conscious. So, she just stared at his scrunched forehead out of the corner of her eye while pretending to look at the puzzle.

“Good grief, Carter, you don’t know who Mulder is?” His exclamation startled her, and her chin slipped off her fist into his shoulder with an “oof.” He snatched the book from her other hand before it landed on his tender ribs, and she scrambled for purchase on the bed.

“Oops, sorry sir,” she said as she lifted the book back into place quickly.

Captain Carter had been his second for less than a year but had already attuned herself to him fairly well – anticipating his moves, sometimes before even he did, with frightening accuracy. Which is why he cocked his head at her and stared curiously on this occasion, one of the few in which he had caught her off guard. He wondered where her mind had been, just as she was hoping he hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was her only distraction. Then she remembered he had asked her something.

“Sorry, what was that, sir?” The last word came out a little strangled, not the cool, calm, and collected she was going for.

“Fox Mulder” he said, the word fox coming out a little breathy.

She slid her finger across the page, searching.

“One across,” he supplied.

“Oh,” she said when she reread the clue, “I mean, I’ve heard the name I think, but what is the complement to Fox Mulder?”

“Dana Scully,” he said simply, dropping the teasing.

“Oh yeah! That’s the other one.” She snatched the book into her lap to scribble down the name in the boxes. He liked that when she was deep in problem solving mode, she was more likely to drop the incessant sirs.

“It fits!” she said triumphantly. And there was the smile again, and it made him feel as though there was no greater accomplishment than being the person to supply it.

“Of course, it does.” He motioned for her to turn the book back into his field of vision, pouted and sighed when she just turned to look at him instead.

“So, do you watch the show, the um, the X-Files, right?” 

He nodded, pursed his lips in approval of her limited knowledge.

“I did for a few seasons.” He didn’t mention that he had watched it with Charlie. That Sara had argued it was too scary for him. That they’d sneaked around and done it anyway. That it was their Friday night thing. That Charlie got a kick out of the fact that it creeped his mom out.

“It any good?” It was his turn to give a blank stare.

“The X-Files?” she reminded him.

“Definitely.”

“Hmm.” She tapped the pencil on the book in her lap.

“What?”

“I don’t know, sir. I can just never get into sci-fi shows. They always get the science wrong. Especially the physics.”

“But that’s the best part. So many of their cases defy scientific explanation. It drives Scully crazy. But Mulder loves it. And it’s not your typical sci-fi. It has a lot of other stuff, too.”

“Maybe I'll check it out, then.” She smiled and leaned back into the bed, resuming her former position.

“Good.” He said.

No more than ten seconds had passed before he shook his head in mock disappointment again, having noticed another entry she had skipped.

“Three across, Carter.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It’s Bart Simpson.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Ok, thanks.” This time she didn’t retreat to her chair to write it in. She just rested more completely on the mattress, barely touching the edge of his pillow, and brought her right hand up to scribble it in. He nodded proudly.

“What would you do without me, Carter?” His question was playful, but her sleepy response revealed more than she intended.

“I have no idea, sir.”


	2. The whole, hard cold truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carter has done at least two puzzles without him, but Jack is perfectly okay with that because it means she is alive. Set after the events of "Bane", with references to "In the Line of Duty."

From the hallway outside the infirmary, he heard Teal’c ask her what she was working on. Before she answered, he knew. It had become a habit of hers. He nestled himself into a nook just outside the door and peeked around its edge. She indeed had her book and was explaining its purpose to Teal’c as intently as she explained theoretical astrophysics in briefings. And Teal’c, bless him, was nodding studiously.

He chuckled, but it came out more audibly than he had meant, so he dashed back behind the entry, belatedly slapping a hand over his mouth that was arguably louder than the chuckle. After a moment, he looked back into the room and relaxed when he saw her scribbling furiously with a pencil. He tried to remember the last time he knew for sure she had been working on one of those things and it all came back to him in a rush. It was right after the whole Jolinar fiasco…

_He wandered mindlessly into her lab, half-expecting to see her sitting there, even though he had just confirmed she was asleep in the infirmary. He had pretty much avoided talking to her, but in his defense, she had made it clear she didn’t feel much like talking. He felt her lingering presence here. It was happier than the grumpy mood he was in. The soft lights of her lamps were warmer than the harsh hallway._

_He sighed and allowed his at attention shoulders to relax for the first time in days, revealing his intense relief that she had not been taken over by a Goa’uld… that she hadn’t died on the table. He imagined her coming back to work, smartly bouncing into the room ready to explain her next theory or discovery. But almost immediately his smile disappeared as he wondered if the same Samantha Carter would be there. The Samantha Carter that had, despite his best defenses, penetrated his heart with her science babble, the most unlikely of ammunition._

_He was about to retreat before anyone noticed him there when he had an idea. She was feeling a  little lost, so maybe he could bring her something from the lab to help her feel more like herself. Janet would stab him guiltlessly with the biggest needle she could find if he aided and abetted the Captain in getting any actual work done, so he decided if he could find a title simple enough that he could understand, he might be safe from sedation._

_He rummaged around her shelves for a minute, thinking that Carter would probably also stab him with the nearest doohickey if he left anything out of place. He noticed what looked like a magazine on a low shelf just outside the rays of the lamp. Before he could read the title, the colors brought him back to the time they had practically shared his infirmary bed to complete a puzzle. He squatted down, immediately regretted torturing his knees, and the book came into focus. Perfect, he thought. He snatched it up, along with a pencil from her desk, and he was off._

_She was still asleep when he got there, so he just left it on the table beside her bed. The next day when he peeked in on her, she was sitting up in bed, the book lying open on her slightly raised knees. He smiled and left her to it. He knew she just needed more time, more time to think, or to not think, before she could face her team. Seeing Cassie had been the first step. Something familiar but non-work related like those puzzles gave her a sense of normalcy. After Iraq, for him, it had been fishing._

_Pretty soon, she had a laptop in bed, getting some work done while antsily awaiting Janet’s release. If Jack were honest, he would admit that he had needed time, too. Watching her essentially die and be brought back to life had affected him more deeply than he would have ever anticipated. He had seen both men and women die on the battlefield, but Carter was…well, she was Carter._

And now Teal’c was in the infirmary, almost taken down by a stupid bug, for crying out loud. There was something about his team that had made him feel like together, they were invincible. Maybe individually they could fail, but not as a team. And that’s how Jolinar had gotten them, Tokra or not – he, she, it, whatever, had tried to divide and conquer his team, had tried to use each of their strengths and weaknesses against one another. Jack had adjusted his mental strategy to include Tokra in his threat analysis, to prevent such things from happening again. But how could you prepare for a bug? Did they make alien bug spray? He would have to get Carter on that immediately.

An image flashed in his mind, of Carter in Teal’c’s place, without the aid of a symbiote. Part of him wished she had the benefit of a Tokra without all the unpleasant side effects. He shook the thought from his head, tried to convince himself his concern was purely for that of a fellow comrade. After all, he also had frequent occasion to worry about Daniel, and not because of his allergies and otherwise delicate sensibilities. He had more than proven himself on the first mission to Abydos and his irritating habits of diplomacy had no doubt saved their butts on multiple occasions. But it was those same instincts that he worried might get him killed.

Still, a niggling part of his brain tried to point out to him that his concern for Carter was of a considerably different nature. It wasn’t just because she was a woman, well, at least not in the way one might think. She was good in the field. But stuff happened to good people all the time and he was realizing more each day there was nothing he could do to stop it, especially now that an entire universe was involved. The thought sobered him. He coughed a little to overcome the strangled feeling that had come over him. He heard shuffling and a chair scrape and realized he had been a little too loud. He retreated again behind the doorframe.

“I’ll be right back, Teal’c,” he heard her whisper.

“Very well, Captain Carter.” Teal’c rumbled in return. Then, the smooth clip of bootsteps. He relaxed his posture to lean more casually against the wall, as if it were perfectly normal for him to be there. He felt her presence come around the corner, but didn’t look up.

“Colonel?” Then he did look up and was instantly lost in the galaxy of her eyes, through which she continued to stare at him. _Act natural, Jack,_ _for crying out loud._

“Uh, yeah, hi.” _Smooth._

“Good evening, sir. How are you?” She asked genuinely, despite the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Better now that Teal’c is okay.”

“Yes, sir.” They exchanged grim smiles.

“You wanna come say hi?”

“Um, no that’s ok, you guys are hanging out. I’m supposed to bring his candles later so he can do his thing. Don’t tell Doc, though. She knows he can do it without them, but he kinda misses it, ya know?”

 “Yes, sir.”

They all knew it was better to seek forgiveness rather than permission with Frasier, who wouldn’t prematurely cut off a candlelit meditation, unauthorized puppy visit, or perhaps ill-advised 2am jam session if it was helping an injured team member heal. She would just vehemently scold them when it was over and tell them never to do it again. A secretly sweet, but scary little gnome.

“Better disable the smoke sensors in there.” She motioned to the infirmary.

“Right!!” he said, smacking his forehead, then thought about it, “wait, you know how to do that, right?”

“Yes, sir” came out as a whispered giggle and suddenly it was the only way he ever wanted to hear it said.

“I’ll take care of it when my shift ends,” she assured him when he didn’t reply. He also didn’t move from his spot. She wondered if he had changed his mind about switching with her now. Before she could inquire, he seemed to realize he was still looking at her. He broke off visual contact, then gestured in dramatized military signal toward the hallway, which she took to mean he was leaving for now and would be back later. She nodded. He smiled at the floor as he turned and left. Then she remembered something.

“Wait!” she accidentally almost-shouted. He did an about face.

“Sir.” She added belatedly. He dismissed it with a wave, ushering her to the point. She looked down to read.

“We have to tell the truth about what happened over there. The whole, hard cold truth.”

It took him a second longer than it should have to realize she was reading a clue. He stared at her for an additional second, suddenly realizing who she reminded him of. He shook the images from his mind, focused on the live captain in front of him. Misunderstanding his silence, she continued.

“There’s sixteen let…”

“Courage Under Fire.” He supplied.

“Oh! I’ve heard of that one!” she beamed with triumph and started writing.

“Me too.” He said absently and he turned, hoping to get away before her pencil stopped scratching. But his conscience, which was started to sound an awful lot like Daniel, stopped him and he turned just in time to see her look up. She scrunched up her eyes at his departure, so he waved and attempted a smile. Her broad grin returned and he wondered if she even had a poker face. He mock saluted as he rounded the corner, then pretty much instantly decided there was really no harm in getting the candles a little early. Anything for Teal’c, right?

Later he was so glad he did, because he arrived just in time to hear Teal’c ask, while staring intently at her book,

“Captain Carter, where is this forest of gump?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for for my first kudos and comments! I wasn't going to post the next chapter today but I know how it feels waiting for new material to read. I have a friend who reads these, but feel free to let me know if you catch a typo. For this story, I'm trying to fit things in canon and keep things as accurate as possible, though I'm sure some minor fudges may occur. Let me know if you see anything glaringly obvious that my research misses. Also, I experimented with using both Jack and Sam's thoughts in the last one because I dig the way both of their minds work, but this story is feeling more like Jack's POV, so we'll see how it plays out.


	3. Breaking the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Jack visit Daniel in the infirmary after the events of "Forever in a Day."

Daniel’s forehead twitched in his sleep, drawing her attention from her book to the angry red mark the hand device had left behind.

She reached out in what had become a familiar gesture, to soothe him back to sleep, away from demons both real and imagined, but stopped when her hand reached his bangs. She didn’t want to hurt him. Having been on both the giving and receiving end of the kara kesh, she knew its power to inflict unrivaled anguish, physical and emotional. But for that very reason he needed to be grounded to reality, so she reached out gently, just above the mark, to stroke along his hairline. Her father said that this motion was the only way he could ever get her to sleep as a baby, and it was one of few mothering instincts she carried with her now. It had soothed her niece and nephew, to the amazement of her sleep-deprived brother and sister-in-law.

When her thumb touched his forehead, he flinched slightly before relaxing down into the mattress for the first time all night. Ever since he had arrived back on base, he seemed prepared to jump from the bed and run, even in his sleep. She stroked for a few more seconds, chuckled suddenly when she remembered a day in her lab, back when he used to wear his hair long.

He had been trying to read some writing on a piece of technology she had asked him to look at, but his bangs kept falling in his eyes, so she had reached into her drawer for a butterfly clip and twisted his hair back into it before he realized what had happened to him. He had looked simultaneously impressed and horrified with her feminine technology. He had also sworn her to secrecy and not allowed her to take any pictures…that he knew about.

Satisfied that Daniel was resting comfortably for now, she settled back into her makeshift chaise lounge constructed of hospital chairs, pillows, blankets, and perhaps some equipment she shouldn’t be appropriating for personal use, but that she figured no one missed for now. She reached for her book and furrowed her brow when she remembered the clue she was stuck on.

Jack had been watching her for far longer than he originally intended. He had come to offer relief from her watch, but caught her tender act of comfort and was frozen to his spot. The relationship between these two was puzzling and mesmerizing. They had bonded almost immediately over their mutual nerdiness, and that bond had quickly solidified in battle. Carter, tough as she was, had offered more tactful and compassionate tutelage in the ways of the military and combat than either Jack or Teal’c could have. They had also been each other’s outlet for geekiness the likes of which Jack was happy to have not been the sounding board for. Sometimes their playfulness bordered on flirtatiousness, and were it not for Daniel’s intense devotion to Sha're, it may have developed further. He wondered if that would change after Daniel had mourned her loss, but quickly dismissed the notion, though he wasn’t sure if that was because the ship had truly sailed or because he couldn’t bear the thought. Thinking of them as siblings, the science twins, was easier on his heart than he could really consciously acknowledge.

His brain was getting too touchy-feely for his liking, so he decided to carry out his original mission. She didn’t look up from her book, probably recognized his bootsteps, which made him wonder if she had heard him in the hallway. She probably had, as they were both creatures of habit and each had their people watching spots on base. As he neared her perch, he watched her brow furrow again in consternation not much unlike that which she had just erased from Daniel’s face.

“Mind if I sit?” he motioned to her impressive fort of hospital furniture. Janet had recently banned teammates from empty beds in the infirmary in hopes it would deter them from staying after hours, but it had only forced them to be more creative. Carter looked up and realized for the first time that she had basically ignored her commanding officer’s presence. He had long ago ordered her at ease, but she sat up straighter out of habit. He narrowed his eyes at her in disapproval and it had the same effect as her stroking Daniel’s forehead – she relaxed back into her former position.

“Of course not, sir, go ahead.” She moved her bag and a bottle of water from the seat next to her.

He nodded in approval and sat in an armless chair that had been braced against her own seat and the wall, as well as covered with a cushion likely pilfered from the visitor’s lounge. She had essentially created an L-shaped couch and was currently stretched out on the longest leg alongside Daniel’s bed. And staring at him rather than her book as he settled in himself. He realized she was worried he would mess up her creation and her childlike indignation tickled him, but he suppressed his chuckle.

Confident that he was done fidgeting for now, she turned back to her book. It struck him then that he hadn’t brought anything to occupy himself, but wasn’t quite close enough to see her puzzle. He tested the waters and scooted over without dislodging the cushion from its position. He noticed that she was in the middle of the book.

“Hey, you been working on those a lot lately?”

“Hmm?” she mused without looking up. He reached over the top of the book to grasp the stack of pages on the left between his thumb and forefinger. She glanced up at his hand.

“What? Oh. No. I skipped ahead.” His mouth dropped open in over-dramatized shock, which she sensed rather than saw, and ignored.

“But, isn’t that against the rules?” he continued.

“Yeah, well, I broke the rules for Daniel this time.” She pointed to the bottom of the puzzle, where its title was proudly emblazoned in all caps. Understanding dawned.

It read, “INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CROSSADE”

“Ah,” he stated, “good choice.”

“Well, I thought so, considering he’s made me watch the trilogy so many times.”

“Us, Carter, us. I get the medal, too," he said as he tapped the left side of his chest.

“Yes, sir,” she acknowledged, poking the same spot with the end of her pencil. He brushed away eraser crumbs in mock offense.

“Okay, now, Major,” he announced in his best commander voice, “we have a mission to complete.”

She pursed her lips and nodded in defiance of the expected yes, sir, and he was actually impressed. First time for everything, he supposed. Instead she leaned her shoulder into his in acknowledgment, and also to keep him from scooting and futzing with the cushions anymore.

Most of the puzzle was completed, which left him both proud and a little disappointed. It made sense, though, as she had had more exposure to this particular sector of pop culture thanks to their resident archaeologist. _Jack, don’t be jealous of your unconscious friend,_ he scolded himself.

As she was filling in the word Venice, he read the first unanswered clue his eyes were drawn to and he laughed out loud. She stopped writing and looked from him to her answer. Then flipped the pencil around and he realized she thought he was laughing at her current answer. He shook his head.

“No, that’s right, go ahead,” he encouraged, but when she kept looking at him, he grabbed her pencil-laden hand where it was hovering over the last box and made her write the letter e. She opened her mouth to ask what he was laughing at, but he beat her to it.

“Nineteen down.”

She tracked it with her pencil and read the clue out loud.

“Henry’s nickname for Indy.” Her forehead crinkled. _Wasn’t Indy a nickname?_

He saw the moment it clicked and joined her in declaring the answer.

“Junior!” their announcement and subsequent chuckles echoed off grey concrete and escaped down the dark hall. It occurred to him then that his team only seemed to express their mirth in shadow, as if the light would devour it with its harsh truths of a galaxy in turmoil. He wondered if that had been his effect on them, but realized it had rather been their effect on him, as they had resurrected his mirth that died on a sunny day in ’95.

“Daniel has a new holy grail.”

“Hmm?” she half-asked as she went back to writing.

“This harcesis.” If she noticed his correct pronunciation, she didn’t say anything.

“Yeah.” 

“I just hope it doesn’t keep him from mourning Sha're" he chanced. She stopped writing and looked straight at him.

“Maybe it will help.” They had teased her for being a Susie Sunshine in the early days, but had come to realize that science made her quite the realist and she only exuded positivity when she truly meant it. She still held his gaze and he wondered if her words held a deeper meaner, felt like maybe she was referencing Charlie and his own quest. Or maybe he was just realizing it himself.

“Maybe.”

Satisfied, she nodded and scribbled Dnepr on the thirty across. He was about to compliment her when she then quickly wrote Walther PPK on twenty-seven down and with barely a glance at the clue WWI Tank ____ ___, filled in the final boxes with Mark VIII and looked up with smug satisfaction. It was a good thing he was her CO, because otherwise he didn’t think anything would stop him from proposing on the spot. Not even sleeping Indy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had just about decided to use Jack's POV, but when I went back to my draft of this chapter, I realized Sam was too embedded in the first part for it to be an easy change. Let me know if it gets too muddled. Thanks for the encouragement so far. These are fun to write, but I didn't realize how much fun it would be to share. I was a bit nervous. I'm a little smug about my chapter title, though. I was planning to use crossword clues for titles, but Sam broke her rules in this chapter, so I did, too. Also, really random, when I was proofreading this and came across the word grey, I remembered that someone recently told me that in American English it is gray. I'm American and I've always used grey, even before I lived abroad, so it made me wonder how prevalent cross-use of both words are. Whatever it is, I'll bet fanfiction had a role in it. /ramble


	4. Hit It and Quit It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Sam is in the infirmary after the events of "Entity," Jack reflects on the year their team has had.

He flipped through the pages without really seeing them. His eye was actually on the figure in the infirmary bed beside him. When she had first been taken there after being revived, he knew he would be at first watch and didn’t want to show up empty-handed. At first, picking up the book was like having a touchstone to cling to, but now that he had been sitting here for hours while she slept, he was beginning to feel like an idiot…well, more of an idiot than usual.

He had almost started a puzzle without her, but that had just felt wrong, and that wrong feeling triggered another, far worse one in his brain – the feeling he had when he had used the zat on her…twice. It was bad enough that he had done it. It was almost unbearable that he had done it so easily. He started to wonder if she would even want him near her when she woke, much less in possession of her book.

Jack scrubbed a hand over his face, which made him realize he was in need of a shave. Everyone had been a little preoccupied lately, but he knew that his own preoccupation had begun to border on obsession, and it was starting to bleed through. Why couldn’t he get a hold of himself? The year had been too much. He had been forced to bring feelings to the surface that he would have preferred to leave buried. And his complicated relationship with his second wasn’t the only issue. He had grown to rely on his entire team far more than he ever had, and in his experience, that usually led to disappointment, and usually a lot of pain.

After his undercover mission the previous year, he has been sure his team would never trust him again. But to his amazement, he couldn’t seem to shake them. Sure, there was a bit of resentment and confusion, but the universe hadn’t stopped to coddle them and so they were thrust back into action where trust was a necessity. No sooner had they reforged their bond when they lost Daniel to the crystal skull. Jack hadn’t let on that he believed he was gone, that their luck had run out. Then he was back again, annoying as ever.

He didn’t even want to think about the whole za’tarc debacle, but one event that he really couldn’t seem to ignore was their stint on the ice planet. His feelings on that mission were so mixed. On the one hand, he wanted to be proud that they had all found one another despite the memory stamps. He would never admit such a mushy sentiment to anyone, however. Besides, on the other hand was his relationship with Thera, and maybe that was just better off being locked away in the same room as the za’tarcs.

More recently he and Teal’c had bonded in a way that he would have preferred to avoid, but having been that close to death aboard the too ironically named death glider, Jack had looked at Teal’c differently. He had always trusted him and considered him a brother, but there was a small part of him that had seen him as alien. That part had disappeared that day, in the moments they took their last breaths, and it had never resurfaced.

He looked down at the book and realized he had been gripping the pages tightly enough to leave significant creases. He panicked and let go. The book wasn’t in pristine condition, but the pages were crisp for the most part, and Carter would get onto him for messing up her book. He needed to think of something less stressful. What he really needed was to get off watch and go pass out somewhere, but he still had an hour left.

He scanned his memory for better images and almost passed up the disaster that was P4X-347, but then had to chuckle at the outcome. The initial withdrawal was an awful, terrible no good, very bad day. But the gradual detoxing that followed wasn’t that bad. He’d been through worse, and at least he had company. He looked down at the book in his hands and grinned.

_Unsurprisingly, Daniel had been the first to the supply box when it came through. He was like a kid on Christmas and opened it accordingly._

_“I really hope she remembered my snacks,” he muttered as he rifled through the contents. Somehow, Janet had been converted into a mother of kids at summer camp, not just responsible for essential medical supplies, but also special requests._

_“Don’t worry, Daniel,” Sam said, “Janet knows you will withdraw from M &Ms worse than from the light.”_

_“Oh, were those for you?” Jack interjected around a mouthful of food. He hadn’t quite seen that look in Daniel's eye before, and regretted speaking even before Daniel leaped at him and practically tackled him to the ground. As the spacemonkey was reaching, or rather clawing, for the bag in his hands, Jack opened it willingly._

_“Easy, Dannyboy, I was just kidding.” Daniel started to grab for the bag before he realized he’d been had._

“ _Peanuts. Jerk.”_

_“Hey Daniel, think fast.” Carter tossed him a brown bag and the way he gleefully jumped for it made her giggle. She rarely giggled, at least not in Jack’s presence, and it made it almost worth all the trouble they had been through the past week._

_While Daniel gorged himself on candy, Carter went to stand over her commanding officer. She reached out a hand and he took it. The touch was electric, not quite as strong as it had been when they had argued before, but still stronger than normal. It reminded him a little of the kiss they had shared...well, it couldn’t really be considered sharing if she didn’t remember. He smiled and stared stupidly at her rather than getting up._

_“What are you smiling at?” she interrupted his thoughts._

_“Oh…nothin’,” he said as he finally pulled on her to stand, which took her off guard and they collided together but managed not to fall. She smirked at him and brushed off her uniform awkwardly, not making eye contact. He strolled over to the box and rummaged some more before pulling out a familiar book and waving it at her._

_“Wh..where..why…you really asked her to send that?” And then she added belatedly, “Sir?”_

_“Had to make sure you read something besides popular astrophysics.” He winked, entirely too proud of himself._

_“But no one is even…” And she caught herself before she said anything to break the spell. They both knew it was something she, and now he, did to cope with hospital stays. He had never really liked them much to begin with, but his dread of them had maxed out after Charlie. And Carter never said it in so many words, but he got the feeling she acquired her own distaste after her mother died._

_She didn’t say anything else, just took the book from him and turned to walk toward what she had designated as her area. He looked over and Daniel was still having an M &M party. He fidgeted with his empty peanut package and regretted not asking for a yo-yo. Then he heard her speak._

_“You coming?” He looked up and she was waiting for him to follow her. So he did._

_They had managed to make it through most of the “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll” puzzle before Daniel crashed the party. He was out of candy already. They basically ignored him wandering around the room and Sam read on._

_“Hit It and Quit It," Sam read. She and Jack exchanged a look._

_“Funkadelic!” Daniel shouted as he plopped down between them. He smelled of chocolate._

_Sam started scribbling and then clapped Daniel on the shoulder in celebration. She exchanged another look with Jack._

_“Okay, he can stay.”_

“What are you smiling at?” He looked up and realized she was awake. And asking him that damn question again. He never used to smile this much, he was going soft. He considered his options for a moment and then settled on, “I’m just glad you’re awake.”

Before those words could linger too long, he dropped the book in her lap.

“We have work to do.”

She didn’t miss a beat.

“Let’s get to it then.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently running fever and trying to take my mind off of it. Any craziness in my story I will blame on that. P.S. Took cold medicine last night and had a dream that I was filling in for a trapeze artist who did stunts over water from a parasailing chute. After my performance, I addressed the crowd and said we should all thank Michael Greenberg (Stargate producer) on his birthday for inventing the parachute.


	5. Misery Loves Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wakes up in the infirmary again after the events of "Desperate Measures."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating upgraded to teen for mild, but sardonic drug references.

He wasn’t really fully conscious yet, and since he was pretty sure he hadn’t hit his head, that meant that Dr. Needles had given him some pretty powerful stuff. He smirked, eyes still closed. Janet knew the only way to keep him in the infirmary for the requisite amount of time was to drug him silly. He decided he might as well relax while he couldn’t feel the pain that would inevitably start to ebb from the wound in his shoulder. He reached out with his other senses, saw only a faint glow behind his eyelids. Heard a few beeps and clicks from equipment in the room, but no rustling from chart papers, creak from wheels, or rattle of tools. This told him it was the middle of the night.

A sudden floral smell stood out in stark contrast to the foundation of antiseptic notes in the room. He thought he’d dreamed it at first, but the more he came awake, the more he was convinced she was here, and nearby. He inhaled more deeply and the moment he finished exhaling, in the quiet before his next breath, he heard her inhale first. He could tell by the sound that she was asleep, and fairly deeply so.

They had all been on enough missions together to have a mental catalogue. Knew when someone was fighting sleep, feigning sleep, too soundly asleep for the danger of a mission, not sleeping enough due to nightmares. She rarely slept when she was on infirmary watch, and never this soundly. He felt the faint puff of air against the skin of his arm, which revealed she was closer than he had realized, resting partially on his own mattress. He barely registered elation or nerves before he went straight to concern.

He patted around to his left side and realized he was shifted mostly to that side of his hospital bed, which explained why there was a strip of mattress just wide enough on his right for her to have leaned without touching his injured shoulder. He reached across his body with his uninjured arm and came into contact with a soft mop of hair. When she didn’t immediately stir, he grew more concerned and his touch turned into as much of a caress he could get away with considering he couldn’t yet be sure there were no witnesses.

His brain finally convinced his eyes to open and the moment he saw her pale face on the mattress, the foggy reasons for their arrival came flooding back and he treasured the breaths that reached his arm because they meant that she was alive and safe. She was wearing hospital pajamas too reminiscent of the scrubs she had been wearing when he found her. He felt a throb in his shoulder and a wave of nausea hit him. He didn’t trust himself in his drugged state to make it to a basin and knew that he’d regret the pain inflicted from bolting upright, so he inhaled deeply and willed it away.

He had only shifted slightly, but knew it was his discomfort rather than his movement that roused her. They had all developed that ability, too, to know when a teammate was in trouble, but her instinct ran deeper than most. Stronger than the Goa’uld-sensing Naquedah in her veins. She shifted, and he opened his eyes again to meet hers as she lifted her head. Her normally bright blue eyes were stormy and gray. And the way they didn’t quite focus on him was indicative of the drugged out and adrenaline-laced ordeal she had been through. He suddenly felt guilty for being irritated about his own involuntary drugging. At least it had been in his best interests.

She blinked a few times and the blank stare melted from her face in recognition.

“Hey, Carter.” His first words were a little slurred, but passable.

“Ja…Si…Hey.” She decided to avoid names entirely. He knew it wasn’t fair, really. Her only options were too informal for the infirmary and too formal for someone who had stared down death with you. He could get away with using her last name as a term of endearment. She had no ambiguous equivalent. Be that as it may, practically sleeping on your CO was nearly unambiguous. He remembered they were still druggily staring at one another.

“Wanna play?”

He realized his brain had picked the wrong terminology when she scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. She lay back down on the mattress from the effort but didn’t break eye contact.

“I mean, wanna work a crossword?” He prepared to keep his pout in check in case she was too tired.

“Oh!” she said as though she had just truly woken up. “I didn’t bring it. Sorry.” She pushed herself off the mattress. “I can go get…”  He held up a hand.

“I’m way ahead of you,” he said, scanning the room. “Well, at least I think I am. It’s gotta be here somewhere.” He spied a pile of clothes in a chair against the wall. “There! I think it’s under my shirt. Daniel said he’d bring it.”

She slid out of the chair obediently and he wondered if she was just doing it because he was the needy patient. But when he saw her tiptoeing back to the bed like a child sneaking cookies at midnight, he knew she was on board. She returned to her chair and handed him the book. He noticed a reddish-brown spot on the cover, surmised that it was likely transfer from the blood on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Carter,” he said, rubbing at the already dry stain. She swiped at it once and then waved her hand.

“It’s okay. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before.”

“Yeah, don’t you bring it on missions?”

“I stopped that a while ago.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t wanna lose it,” she said simply, but her eyes lingered on the book in his hands a beat too long. He thumbed through the pages and opened it somewhere near the middle, read the title and scanned the page. _Oh no way,_ he thought. He must have scrunched up his face because she blocked his hand from changing the page.

 “What? Lemme see.” She gripped the side of his hand to encourage him to turn the book around. He obliged, begrudgingly. She read the title.

“Misery Loves Company.” She paused. “I don’t get it.” Had he ever heard those words come out of her mouth before? Where was a tape recorder when you needed one? _Back in the time loop,_ his brain unhelpfully supplied. He shook off the onslaught of imagery.

“As in the Stephen King book. Crazy fan kidnaps a guy.” He braced for a reaction. It wasn’t what he thought. She broke out into her first post-kidnapping grin.

“No, it’s perfect. Let’s do it.”

 _And that, your honor, is when I kissed her,_ he heard himself telling the judge at his court martial, but he refrained from jumping her bones and pulled her via the book that linked their hands toward the mattress, where they settled into serious crossing mode.

She was able to fill in a few easier clues - Carrie, The Shining, IT – before she got stuck. He had been a pretty loyal King fan until some of their missions had begun to resemble the stories.

She was tapping her pencil on nine across, a signal he usually interpreted to mean she needed help, as she rarely asked for it. He looked at her, made her work for it.

Finally, she wondered aloud.

“Willie Wolfe? What does he have to do with…?”

“Cujo,” he supplied.

“Oh, that poor dog.”

He bellowed at that. It was just like her to feel bad for the dog.

“Did you know he wrote that one on a cocaine binge?” he waggled his eyebrows at the scandal.

 “I was drunk when I watched it.” His eyes bulged. She won that round.

“Weren’t you like twelve?”

“Fifteen, thank you very much,” she said between pencil scribbles.

“Bet Dad loved that.”

“Yeah, he was pretty pissed.” She wore it like a badge of honor. He knew very little of those years between her mother’s passing and her academy days. And despite her improved relationship with Jacob, he knew they didn’t talk about it either.

“I think I saw it after East Germany.” 

“Oh.” She stopped writing on twelve down.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. Sorry’s were not exchanged over their memories. It just was what it was and they were comfortable enough to let it be.

“Blank Card Man” he read, both to change the tone and to challenge her.

“Yellow,” she replied automatically. He narrowed his eyes at her, impressed.

“I actually read that one.”

“You haven’t read any others?”

“I’m not much for horror. I saw a few movies because Mark liked them.”

“How bout that time travel though?”

“Yeah.”

“Accurate?”

“No comment.” He clucked his tongue at that.

“You _so_ want to comment.” That’s all it took and she was off like a shot.

“Alright, so ignoring all other inaccuracies, the time machine should have at least been shaped like a donut.”

“But it wasn’t a time machine, it was a portal,” he interjected.

“Portals don’t work that way.”

“The Stargate does.” He was way out of his league here, but he _had_ traveled back in time, so he felt like he deserved to be in this particular sciencey argument.

“Not without solar flares.” Ok, so she was right about that.

“Al called it a rabbit hole. Maybe rabbit holes work that way, Alice.” He fixed her with a look. Focus came back to her eyes as she returned it.

“Maybe you’re right, Hatter.” And she gave up her argument, just like that. _Had she…ever done that before?_ Not to his knowledge. He nodded triumphantly. Maybe he was mad, after all.

“So, donuts, you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm grateful for readers. I'm grateful for comments. I'm grateful for this site. I needed an outlet this week. I fudged the real-world timeline to fit in that last Stephen King reference. But I figure that wins me a few irony points since its about time travel.


	6. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He didn’t really blame her for the cold shoulder. Because he, bastard that he was, had done it first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to SophieHatter for all the great encouragement.

He found it in the trash can soon after Daniel died. He almost didn’t reach in and pluck it out. He had stood there, uncomfortable for the first time in her lab, afraid that she would return and see him, holding his own indictment. They were dealing with their grief in different ways, ways that kept them in separate planes, never coexisting. He looked down at the book in his hands. Maybe this particular plane no longer existed. He was unprepared for how deeply that thought affected him.

He moved to put it back on the shelf where she usually kept it, but hesitated, decided it wasn’t quite safe yet in plain sight. On his way out the door with the book hidden under his jacket, he felt like an invisible force shield stopped him at the threshold. Taking it wasn’t right, either. He turned, shuffled his feet a bit deciding which direction to go, then went for a metal shelf in the corner, where less oft-used equipment was stored.

He tucked the book under his arm and snatched a large black binder from the shelf, opening it to find it had pockets inside the cover, which he thought would be safer than leaving it loose. The book was magazine thin, but it still took a some convincing to get it to slide between the layers of plastic. Well-used though it already was, he flinched when a corner caught on the binder plastic. He angled his body to watch the door while he was working and smoothed it back down.

Finally satisfied with the book’s placement, he put the binder back on the shelf. Pushed it back a few inches, pulled it forward an inch. Was that where it had been? Would she notice? Find the book and trash it again? He was tempted to take it back to his quarters after all, but bootsteps in the hall threatened a coronary as he leaped from the back of her lab to her work table to hunch over and examine a piece of equipment. He winced at the twinge in his knee, which she caught as she rounded the corner.

“Are you all right, sir?” Though she sounded far away and unconcerned.

“Of course. You know, just the knee,” he said, tapping it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stand like that.” The absence of the sir that time was deafening. He ignored it.

“Well if I can’t stand, I sure as heck shouldn’t be leading a team.” His attempt at humor boomeranged back at him as he realized there was more than a hint of truth in the statement. She emitted a humorless snort that mirrored his thoughts.

“Did you need something, sir?” She wasn’t physically tapping her foot at him, but the impatience in her eyes told him she was mentally doing it.

“What? Oh, um…” he glanced around, thinking. “I was just wondering…do you have a ruler I could borrow?”

She just stared at him. Straight through his soul with ice-blue eyes. Then, she reached between them toward something on the work table. He didn’t realize what it was until he broke eye contact first. She was placing a ruler in his hands. A lame excuse to be in her lab once would have made her blush and roll her eyes. He would duck his head in mock shame and shuffle out the door with an invitation to lunch or a comment about catching her on the other side of the gate. He wasn’t sure how to get out of her lab without that particular coping mechanism. She chickened out first, showing the first sign of weakness since she’d entered.

“I, uh, forgot something downstairs.” She made a vague motion with her thumb over her shoulder that was a little more his brand of awkward than hers, which evoked a smile from him that she didn’t see as she turned to escape her own lab. He was pretty sure downstairs had come to mean Daniel’s lab. And he wondered if it always would.

He didn’t really blame her for the cold shoulder. Because he, bastard that he was, had done it first. The day Daniel ascended, she was looking for someone to mourn with. Instead, he had tried to convince her it wasn’t the same as dying, and that as a scientist she should appreciate Daniel’s decision to explore the unknown for the greater good. Which was 100% the wrong thing to say and he knew it before it came out of his mouth. He didn't actually believe it. He was just angry with Daniel for expecting him to understand, so he was throwing his words at someone else so he didn't have to hold onto them anymore. It was awful, but it was an improvement in his grief coping skills considering what grief had done to him his first trip through the gate. He figured she was less mad at him for the words and more ashamed that she showed vulnerability only to be shot down. He’s not stupid when it comes to feelings. He just realizes things too late sometimes. Most of the time.

Before whenever they were at odds with one another, Daniel was the buffer. He’d go to them one at a time, and with his diplomatic skills that Jack had always underappreciated until now, he’d listen, nod, patiently present the other person’s side, and wait for a response. If he didn’t get the response he was looking for, he’d eventually up the ante and call Jack a stubborn SOB. He figured he was probably a little nicer to Sam. But then again, she was quicker to admit when she was wrong.

With one last glance at the black binder, he turned to leave. He knew she’d find it eventually. Nothing went on in her lab that she didn’t know about. Every tool, down to the last pencil, had a purpose. He just hoped she’d find it at the right time.

…

The book didn’t make an appearance in the infirmary when they were warming up after they’d escaped their crashed mothership that he was still pouting about. Although, he had to admit their relationship was a bit warmer. Almost dying together tended to overwrite some of the brain’s pathways toward bitterness. He knew better than anyone. He had been bound and determined to die on his first trip to Abydos, but the life-affirming optimism of a scruffy-headed archaeologist had rerouted his path of self-destruction. Which continued when he realized a Jaffa was willing to turn his back on everything he knew to save him and his team. And somewhere between the moment a spunky blond asked him if he wanted to arm wrestle and jumped his bones in the locker room, he had decided that he had a family to live for again.

Jonas was sitting on a stool, wrapped in a blanket and examining a blood pressure cuff like it was one of the universe’s greatest mysteries. He hadn’t been in the water as long, but Janet had insisted he be checked out. Jack didn’t think he was that cold either until the adrenaline of their escape started to wear off and every bone in his body ached. When he turned to look at her bed, all he saw was a pile of blankets.

“You warm yet?” he called from his own bed. The pile shook back and forth, which he assumed was a no.

“I don’t think I’ll be warm for a month,” she whined. He chuckled. Well, a month was better than never, he thought.

…

He didn’t see it when he returned from Ba’al’s fortress. Though, truth be told, he was in a pretty terrible mood and might have just scribbled profanity on every line. She’d still never mentioned the time he’d messed up a page when he got drunk that one time after their return from P3R-118.

He lost hope when she didn’t bring it to visit him after he was rescued from the anti-utopia moon. Janet had stitched his leg up and done a full workup to see if there were any lasting effects of the plant, but the infirmary was pretty busy with a banged-up SG-10 that had just returned from a mission, so she cut him loose early pending the results, as long as he promised to rest in his quarters. Normally, he’d disobey her orders and roam around, but he cowardly used it as an excuse to avoid talking to anyone. Teal’c had already mentioned to him that Carter had taken his absence pretty hard. And whenever Teal’c mentioned something, it wasn’t a passing comment – It was because he meant for him to do something about it. But then again, Jack was a stubborn SOB, wasn’t he?

He planned to think about it after he got a good night’s sleep that didn’t involve running from a man with Arugula-induced paranoia. He never quite addressed it, which he regretted deeply after watching her almost die on P3X-367. When they got back home, he planned to go find the damn book himself and bring it to the infirmary, but they were all released at the same time after their routine checkup, the machine having apparently returned her completely to normal after all. Of that he was certainly glad, but was worried he'd missed his chance to revive their hobby for good.

Imagine his surprise a few weeks later when he rounded the corner to find her explaining crosswords to a post-op Jonas. He didn’t even care that she was doing a puzzle with the new guy. He was just so overjoyed to see the book in her hands. He stood in the doorway, much like all those years ago watching a new-Earth Teal’c, grinning from ear to ear as he listened to their exchange.

“But Major Carter, why wouldn’t you just research the answers? Here at the SGC we have access to the finest resources.”

She grasped his arm and held her smile in check. “Jonas,” she said in a tone a lot like Jack said “Carter” when she was too focused on something, “It’s not an assignment. It’s a game.”

“Oh.” Jonas looked disappointed for a moment, and then realization dawned. “Oh!” And then he smiled like a kid with a new toy.

Her face lit up. Jack was secretly proud of her for teaching someone else to get a life. Albeit, a puzzle book was still kind of nerdy. But, baby steps. They all made baby steps every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sent this to a friend, who then texts me, "YOU CANT JUST CASUALLY START A FIC WITH 'after Daniel died' Rude. I made it to sentence one and am taking a break. Sheesh man." She's seen all of the show, but we get in our feelings about season 6.
> 
> I changed the story from no archive warnings to chose not to archive because I wasn't sure if major character death applies to Daniel since he eventually comes back. Thoughts?


	7. Place Your Bets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The seeds of the crossword bet are planted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things. First, my season seven chapter will be broken into two parts. Second, sorry to my readers, I know I’ve been posting one of these every day, but last night I was helping decorate and make food for a wedding until the wee hours of the morning. And then the wedding was today. Every time I’m involved in one of these, it reinforces my argument for elopement.

When they returned from Vis Uban, she practically skipped into the infirmary with the book in her hand. A few years ago, she’d dog-eared a page titled, “Who’s your mummy?” anticipating she’d get to work on it with Daniel eventually. But the last time he had been in the infirmary, it was with absolute certainty that he had received a lethal dose of radiation. So, she’d thrown the book away.

When she'd found it stuffed inside the cover of her requisition log a few weeks later, she was angry at first, almost ripped it to shreds. But then she’d opened it, and it read like a scrapbook of her life since she’d been on SG-1. She was thankful he’d saved it, surmised it was probably the day he’d come lamely asking for a ruler, which he’d left on her work table without borrowing. She’d put the book in a drawer for safekeeping and now she had it in her hand as she rounded the corner into the infirmary. Daniel’s eyes met hers with ten percent more recognition than he’d had when they’d found him.

“Hey, Samantha.” It sounded funny. At least he was trying out her first name rather than her title. She didn’t remind him again that he called her Sam, figured he’d face a lot of correction in the days ahead.

“Hey, Daniel, how are you feeling?”

“Like a lab experiment. Dr. Frasier insists on running every test.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Janet.” She used her name with intent, to remind him of his familiarity with their friend. She saw a spark in his eye and a smile, followed by a faraway look.

“Hey, I brought you something.”  

He sat up straighter as she handed him the book. He eyed it curiously.

“A used crossword book?”  She rolled her eyes and turned to the Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll puzzle, partially completed in his handwriting. She noticed a flicker of recognition. He pointed to a spot on the page.

“Is that blood?” he asked. She leaned in. Then snorted.

“No, that’s a red M&M stain.”

“Oh.” He looked at her and then back at the page, wheels turning. “I like M&M’s.” She nodded.

“And I apparently like bad 80's music?”

“Hey, I won’t judge if you won’t.” She winked. Then turned to the archaeology puzzle and let him read the title.

“That’s a good joke,” he said, with more enthusiasm than he’d displayed since they’d found him. She rolled her eyes again. Daniel was still in there somewhere.

They worked a few clues amidst the hustle and bustle of the infirmary, interrupted a few times for routine questions and tests.

Some of the clues, like King Tut, were more common knowledge that he seemed to vaguely possess, as if ascension and amnesia didn’t wipe out the collective pop culture unconscious. Or else Oma had left behind some pathways for him to follow. Other clues she had to prompt him for, but he seemed to know more than someone who wasn’t an archaeologist, so she was hopeful. They were halfway through the puzzle when Jack showed up to relieve her.

“Hey, kids, having fun?” He asked as he entered. She noticed that he walked lighter now that Daniel was back. She looked at Daniel, who was still a little skittish but less so than when they’d found him, then back at the Colonel.

“Yes, sir.”

Daniel looked at her and whispered. “Am I supposed to call him sir, too?”

At the same time Sam said, “Please don’t,” Jack said, “Yes.” Daniel eyed them both.

“So, no, then,” Daniel said.

Sam nodded and patted his arm. “I’ll see you later, Daniel.”

“Bye, Sam.”

And it was like music to her ears.

…

When she dropped by after lunch, she was met with the sight of her entire team hunched over the puzzle she had left with Daniel.

“DanielJackson, I believe the answer to sixteen across is ‘Balk.’”

Daniel took the book from Teal’c and scanned the page.

“Oh, so it is.” He wrote in the letters as Jack leaned over to read.

“And twenty down is midden.” Daniel looked at the next clue and tapped each box, counting. “That fits.” Jack nodded, as though it were the most obvious answer.

Sam eyed the exchange suspiciously. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

“Just helping Daniel with his puzzle,” Jack answered casually, without making eye contact. She caught Teal’c’s eye instead.  

“Indeed. We have placed a reasonable wager on the endeavor.”

Jack sat up straight when Teal’c revealed their secret. “Teal’c man, not cool.”

Teal’c raised an eyebrow. Jack attempted to mitigate.

“We just thought if a little bet was involved, it might motivate him to remember more.” She wasn’t buying it.

“Guys, really? You’re terrible.” She turned to Daniel. “They’re terrible, and you shouldn’t be friends with them.” Then she looked down and noticed something resting on Jack's legs, hidden under a jacket.

“You’ve got one of Daniel’s books! That’s cheating!”

“How else are we supposed to know what the...uh," he read from the puzzle, "Analysis of the order and position of archaeological layers is?”

“Stratigraphy,” she answered.

He looked her up and down. “We’re sure you’re human?”

She snatched the book from his lap.

He pretended to be unaffected and leaned over the crossword page again to read. “Well, hey, I can at least answer this last one without any help. It’s pot shard.”

“Potsherd,” Daniel said automatically. Jack scoffed.

“Same thing. And it fits either way.”

“Actually, a shard is more appropriate for glass fragments, while sherds specifically refer to pottery.” Daniel looked up to see three pairs of eyes on him. He continued, “Some things are coming back to me.” He looked at Sam. “And you’re right. I shouldn’t be friends with them.”

…

In true Daniel form, he was in danger again only months later. Jack said he'd bring him back and he had. Unfortunately, a week after Daniel’s rescue from Honduras, he was in the infirmary with dengue, which he contracted from his time in the jungle. After a few days of high fever, he was on the mend, but Janet had insisted he remain in the infirmary one more day. His team arrived together to check on him.

“Hey Daniel, Janet said you were feeling a lot better today.” Sam sat next to his bed.

“Yeah, it felt like the worst case of flu I’ve ever had, but I’ll take it if it means I don’t have to be locked in that shack anymore.” There was a beat of silence, not necessarily awkward, but one their team often shared after they’d just barely made it back from a dangerous mission. Jack broke the silence first.

“Brought you something.” He pulled the crossword book from his jacket, which evoked an incredulous look from its owner.

He felt his eyes on her. “What?”

She shook her head disapprovingly. “Well, last time you guys tried to wager him out of his first descension paycheck.”

“Come on, a wager can be quite the motivator,” he argued. The other half of their team just settled in to watch the exchange.

“Oh, really, sir,” she countered.

“Yeah, like how I bet you can’t finish a puzzle without help.” Daniel’s mouth dropped open slightly at the challenge. Sam stood up from her chair and into Jack’s personal space. Teal’c raised his eyebrow.

“Oh, you do, huh? What’s the wager?”

“I pick a puzzle and if you can finish it in say, one week, I’ll buy the whole team dinner. And if you don’t, you have to buy all of us dinner.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Sam looked at their audience members for confirmation. “What do you think, guys?”

“Hey, we get to eat either way, so I say go for it,” Daniel offered.

“Indeed.”

She nodded, didn’t retreat from her position. “So, what are the rules?” That threw Jack off guard. He hadn’t really planned to make this challenge. He was making it up as he went along. He sputtered for a moment before starting to number things off with his fingers.

“Okay, well..you can’t ask anyone for help.” Another finger, “You can’t use any references.” He stopped to think. “Or your fancy search database thingies,” he said, making a vague motion with his hand. She kept at him.

“What if I stumble across the answer?”

“What do you mean? “

“Well, you know, like how we were able to do the Indiana Jones puzzle because we’d seen the movies.”

Daniel piped up then. “You guys did an Indiana Jones puzzle without me?”

“You were unconscious,” Jack answered. Then continued, trying to sound official “Okay, if you watch, read, or otherwise encounter the answer in pop culture, then I won’t disqualify you.”

Sam looked incredulous, mouthed to Daniel, “Disqualify me?” She picked up the book and handed it to Jack. He looked offended.

“No, no, those puzzles are tainted. I’m going to pick a really good one for you.”

She huffed at that and glared at him. They stared off for a few seconds, before Daniel interrupted.

“You did an Indiana Jones puzzle without me?”

She patted his arm in consolation.

…

Later that day, an airman arrived at her lab with an official inter-department delivery envelope. She eyed it curiously before signing it. She opened it and pulled out two sheets of paper. One was a crossword puzzle with the title, “Animation Amalgamation."

“Cartoons, fantastic,” she muttered. The airman squinted his eyes. She waved it off and looked at the other sheet of paper, which contained a single phrase in his characteristic scrawl.

“Bring it on, Alice.”

She smirked and picked up the pen, then hurriedly wrote a reply and stuffed it in the envelope.

“Could you deliver this for me?” She held it out to the airman, who, to his credit, took it with a professional poker face.

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.” A smile at the corner of his mouth told her he knew he was being used as a pawn in some kind of classified game.

“You’re a good sport,” she offered.

“Thank you, ma’am, I try.”

The airman navigated the halls of the SGC to where he suspected Colonel O’Neill might have wandered to, considering the day’s menu. He found him in the commissary eating a piece of chocolate cake. He approached carefully.

“Excuse me, sir, I have the message you were expecting.” Jack ushered the airman in and took the envelope.

“Thank you, that’ll be all,” he said as he slid a challenge coin across the table with a smirk. The airman took it and pocketed it, trying not to let his elation show.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”  

Once alone, Jack opened the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper he had sent. Below his message, it read:

“You’re going down, Hatter.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I threw in the dengue because I contracted it once while living in Honduras, which at first truly freaked me out, but it’s relatively common there and they kind of treat it like getting bad flu. I had forgotten that was the country where Daniel went until I re-watched it. Notably, I lived there during the coup years when the president was removed and, unfortunately, there were a lot of kidnappings going on. The coup didn’t get a lot of attention in the media at the time because of the focus on Michael Jackson’s death. I felt bad for my friends because I know so many amazing people there and the corruption was not reflective of the vast majority of people, and yet they were affected by it every day. Shout out to all my Catrachos.


End file.
